Wednesday, July 09, 2014

Marriage 601, Lecture 145: The first one to see it has to clean it

I was up late to get to work - SH and I went to a concert last night - and SH got out of bed before I left for work.

The way it usually works is that I get up at 6:18 and leave the house at 7:04 to catch the bus and SH gets out of bed about 8. He stays up a lot later than I do, so it works out, although he never gets that much sleep and I don't know how he can stand it. I crater with less than eight hours but he gets by on five or six hours regularly. I think it's genetic. Yet another crummy genetic hand I got dealt in addition to my chubby thighs -- I need sleep. I would much rather be able to get by on just a few hours of sleep every night because then I would have a lot more time for other things, like reading. Not more time for cleaning the house or doing other chores. More time to do the things I want to do, not the things I have to do.

Anyway. I was up and about to leave for work - it takes me eight minutes to walk to the bus stop and I had to leave in three minutes - and SH let the cats in from the basement, which is where they reside at night. I like to have the cats sleep with us, but they do not believe in sleeping past 4 a.m. and I am a firm believer in sleeping past 4 a.m., so although they start out the night with us, Shirley at my feet - I don't know why - and Laverne over by SH, by 2 a.m. they are gone. SH puts them out. Sometimes it's easy and sometimes I am awakened by thumps and yowls as Shirley jumps off the bed and runs under it in an attempt to remain upstairs. That's when SH gets a flashlight and a broom and has to work. So one way or another, I don't ever get the sleep I want.

I do not leave out the back door, which requires opening the kitchen door to the basement, because I don't want to let the cats out when I leave the house in the morning, so I never see what's behind that door until I get home at night.

But SH was up. He opened the door to let the cats in.

Then he noticed.

SH: Oh no!

Me: What?

SH: Spitup! There!

Me: Oh.

SH: Well?

Me: What do you mean, "Well?"

SH: Can't you clean it up?

Me: I have to leave for work.

SH: I think you have time.

Friends of SH pointed out that his big mistake was noticing - that he should have pretended not to see it at all so I would have to deal with it when I got home.